Yesterday I shared my embarrassing shirt backward moment. Here’s today’s equally as mortifying event that happened just yesterday morning.
You all know I go to Planet Fitness because sitting all day and writing will tend to increase the ass size proportionately to the amount of time you sit. I sit 8-10 hours per day. Yeah…My butt has gotten huge these past 2 years!
Anyway. Planet Fitness.
I put all my non-gym stuff in the locker ( purse, phone, glasses), locked the locker with the lock I bring with me – key operated ( no combination because..you know…menopause memory) and proceeded to the gym-proper for an hour. When I was done and I went back into the locker room, for some strange reason my lock wouldn’t open. I swear I grappled with the damn lock and key for 10 minutes, cursing and sweating. I really didn’t want to have to have the staff bolt cut the damn thing open. There were several women in the locker room changing and one asked if she could help. I gave her the key and she couldn’t get the damn thing opened either. She asked if I was sure it was the correct locker. I’m dumb at times but not stupid. Of course it was my locker, I told her. She shrugged and suggested getting the staff to cut it open, that the lock must have somehow broken.
To calm myself down I stepped back and sat down on the bench for a minute to catch my breath and figure out what to do. While I was relaxing ( not!) another gymite came into the room, proceeded to go straight to my locker, stuck in her key, and opened it.
Yeah. I was at the wrong locker. The locks looked identical but my locker was #43. The one I’d been trying to open was # 34.
So let’s add some dyslexia to the list of menopause maladies I now possess.
#FML. For those of you who know what that hastag means, yeah…
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